Well, You Learn Something New Every Day
by Revlis Sophia Silverscale
Summary: In which England finds out Alfred's biggest secret...
1. Chapter 1: Who Was That

Well, You Learn Something New Every Day; Chappie One

**A/N: Just a short note. I will be changing Nyo!America and Nyo!Canada's names for the purposes of the plot dragon that's flying around my head. Flames and criticism welcome. Thank you.**

_England's Point of View_

I sighed as I pulled in the drive. The lawn needed mowing, my red roses were wilting, and my garden needed weeding.

Well, that's what you get when you have a vacation home you only use once or twice a year.

Said vacation home was situated in Illinois, deep within the grasslands and prairies of America, the one and only 'Land of the free and the home of the brave'. There was a G8 meeting in New York City in a couple of weeks, and Arthur wanted to be well settled in before that whirlwind of chaos arrived.

Actually, that wasn't the only reason he was here so early. In truth, he had started developing affections for that blonde-haired blue-eyed maniac that the rest of the world thought he so desperately hated.

Ah, but that wouldn't do. You see, England was a gentleman, and for lack of better words, 'straight as an arrow'. It was not as if he had anything against homosexuals; (in fact, most of his good friends were so) it just wasn't him.

Lost in his ponderings as he was, he almost missed seeing the girl walk by on the sidewalk opposite his driveway. Beautiful, she was, with her slim and graceful stature. She was dressed in a bright blue knee-length lacy dress, practical black flats, and a white knit shrug. Her golden chin-length hair was held out of her eyes with a tactful red chrysanthemum clip, with a single cowlick proudly defying gravity. Her blue eyes danced and sparkled with laughter as she walked.

In short, she bore a striking resemblance to Alfred.

"Excuse me; Miss?" I called across the street, hoping to get her attention. She turned around. As her eyes met mine, she gasped. Her eyes filled with fear; just a touch of embarrassment. And with that, she started to run.

One thought continued to run circles around my brain.

Who _was_ that?

**A/N: Thanks for reading!**

** ~Rev**


	2. Chapter 2: What

Well, You Learn Something New Every Day; Chappie Two

** A/N: Just so you know, Alfie will be OOC. A lot. This plot dragon is relentless. (I also apologize for the major grammatical error in Chappie One. I am currently looking into getting a beta.) On with the story!**

_England's Point of View_

I mechanically unpacked my things; my broken record of a mind leaving anything more complex out of the question. Who _was_ that, anyway? Who could look so alike his former little brother?

Just then, the doorbell rang, thus saving him from his headache- inducing thoughts. Who he found at the door was the person all of his thoughts (Yes, even those about the girl from earlier) circled back to lately.

Alfred.

He stood at the door in a graphic tee (Legend of Zelda, I believe), skater jeans, and light gray Vans. His face bore an irritated yet concerned look as he glared at the still-closed door.

"I know you're in there, Arthur." He called. "Open the damn door already."

I did just that.

"What in the hell are you doing here?" he hissed. "And don't say 'the G8 meeting', because that's in _two weeks_. That, and Illinois is far from New York City. Or are you just _that_ unfamiliar with my country?"

I was speechless. Why was he this angry? Was visiting against the rules or something?

"Not to mention that this is an _unregistered vacation home_," he said, calming down a bit.

Oh. That.

You see, if any country wanted a vacation home in America, they had to go to Alfred first. This was so he could know when any given country was in America. Alfred had a great number of enemies, so he liked to know when we were here so he could protect his allies and/or watch said enemies.

"About that… I was going to-"

"Going to _what_, Iggy?" he cut in. "You know good and well that you're not safe here without supervision. You're one of my most valuable allies, and terrorists are _not_ above attacking you to get to me." I nodded.

"I know, but Secret Service agents are a pain."

"Tell me about it," he laughed; he must be recovering some of his good humor. "But I'll have to install one here anyway. Cool?" he stuck out his hand.

I shook it. "Cool."

"Good. Jacobs!" out of nowhere, a man in a plain black suit appeared.

"Yes, Sir?" he questioned.

"Make sure this man stays safe. This is important, he is like me." Jacobs' eyes widened.

"You mean…"

Alfred nodded.

"Yes Sir!" he enthusiastically replied. He slipped inside England's still open door; probably to check the building. As Alfred turned to leave, England remembered the girl. He had been so preoccupied by America's sudden arrival that he momentarily forgot her.

"Alfred," he called, "do you know of any female U.S. citizens that look inexplicably like you?" Alfred turned back, his face pale.

"No, why?" he questioned, looking slightly fearful.

"I saw a girl earlier that fit the description," he replied. "Well, if she's not one of yours, she's probably a spy." He replied, his heart sinking. He didn't want this mystery girl to be a spy; he felt a connection with her that was similar to what he felt for the blonde in front of him. "We should probably inform our allies of this; if you're being spied upon any of us could be in the same position."

"That won't be necessary." He replied, voice soft and slightly mournful. He looked up, straight into my eye. "May I come in? I must discuss this with you."

"Of course." I blinked, this was not like America at all. He came into my house and I closed the door behind us. We sat down on the couch, an awkward aura surrounding us. He opened and closed his mouth several times, as if not quite able to find the correct words. Finally, he spoke.

"I suppose that it would be easier to show you, since it seems that I am unable to find the correct words." He was starting to speak in a much more refined English now, and if I heard correctly, a slight Cockney accent.

What?

As the words left his mouth, a deep green aura began to surround him; an aura Arthur recognized easily. Magic.

When the light faded, a young girl sat in America's place. The same girl from earlier, in fact. Slowly, the puzzle pieces came together.

America was a girl.

**A/N: Done! Finally. I will try to fix Chappie One, but I might not be able to. Sorry. But anyway, this chappie contains lots of headcanons, and I am sorry. All will be explained. ((This plot dragon, though…))**

**~Rev **


	3. Chapter 3: But of Course

Well, You Learn Something New Every Day; _Chappie Three: _

**Heh, I have no words. Sorrryyy~ AP is stressful and coughing sucks.**

**Still mad? Oh well, I probably deserve it. Well, onward!**

_England's POV_

I was shocked, to say the least. _How had he_ -no, she- _hidden this so well?_ I had _raised her_, for God's sake!

"H-how?" was the only word my stunned mind could find. She chuckled.

"You're not the only one with a magical community, Iggs. Transfiguration is a rather easy form of magic." Oh, then she's known about magic, too. Wait, wha-?

My gape-mouthed appearance must've been rather amusing, for she started to laugh so hard she nearly fell off the couch.

"Excuse my manners," she finally managed to get out. "I was not under the impression that this –revealing my 'big secret'- would be so _freeing._" I let out a chuckle myself.

"What had you expected then?" Her mirth died quickly.

"War. Sanctions. The usual." I opened my mouth to ask the essential question of _why? _or _why in the name of Hell have you come up with an idea like that? _but she stopped me with a fixed glare that brought a new meaning to 'if looks could kill'.

"People have done far worse for far less, England." I was saddened by the fact that she was right. Seemingly in an instant, however, she gathered her good cheer about her as if it were _tangible. _Which, to me, it might as well have been.

"Enough of this." She beamed at me and stuck out her hand. "Alexandra Foster Jones, at your service. You may call me Alex, or Al, or anything really." I smiled tentatively as I took her hand –God, it was so _soft- _

"Still just Arthur Kirkland. I would ask you to not call me Iggy, if I thought there was the slightest chance you would listen." She grinned.

"I know you have questions for me, so would you like to accompany me to my home for tea and some _decent scones?" _I gulped as nervous anticipation trickled down my spine.

"But of course, my lady. But of course."

**Exciting, no? Things might start to pick up after this chapter, but then again, that depends on what Preston (my little ****_shite_**** of a muse) wants to do. I apologize for the lateness. I might try to update weekly or monthly, but I do not know about that. Bye!**

**~Rev**


End file.
